


Big Sister

by godofgrapes



Category: RWBY
Genre: Big Sister Yang, Big sister, Do not Ship! This dock is closed to all Ships!, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Espionage, Family, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 11:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27849998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/godofgrapes/pseuds/godofgrapes
Summary: The creeping, crusted hallways of this hellbeast shared no similarities with the woods she’d stumbled through all those years ago, but it was still the exact same situation. Oscar was here, lost in the dark woods, frightened and alone. But Qrow wasn’t coming to flash his scythe and save the day. It was her turn to be the indomitable hero, rushing in to smite the monsters.Story inspired by the art of 'trailofclementines' on Tumblr.
Relationships: Oscar Pine & Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 10
Kudos: 92





	Big Sister

**Author's Note:**

> Story inspired by the art of 'trailofclementines' on Tumblr.
> 
> https://trailofclementines.tumblr.com/post/636170509657292800/im-so-sorry-oscar-ill-never-let-anything

_Big Sister_

Yang was the last of Team RWBY to leap the miniscule distance from the Manta craft they had liberated to the outcropped landing platform jutting unnaturally from the side of this immense, disgusting whale. She landed roughly, as was her way, following her momentum into a frontward roll that brought her back up to her feet on the follow through. Ruby, her bright red hood pulled up over her head in a surprisingly effective form of camouflage against the pulsing red walls of the Grimm Whale, had already positioned herself at the head of the tunnel. She was crouched onto a single knee, eyes dialed tightly into _Crescent Rose’s_ scope as she peered down the hallway, alert for the approach of any enemies. Something deep within Yang – the part of her that was still her sister’s put upon surrogate mother – ached to see her in such a position, but there was too much of the jaded, cynical Huntress in her now to be preoccupied with it.

Yang stalked forward, her mouth set into a grim, silent line. Weiss was gesticulating with her hands at the hovering Manta – she was, surprisingly, the most adept at maneuvering her fingers into the complicated shapes of Jaune’s made up hand signals. _One hour,_ she signed at them. _West docks._

 _Good luck,_ Ren signed back, his face set into perhaps the grimmest mask of them all. Yang wouldn’t be surprised if this turned out to be the boy’s last mission with them. He’d worn that face a while now – since the fallout with Ironwood – and it had only gotten worse after they’d lost Oscar.

Yang’s right hand clenched into a tightly shaking fist, a lance of phantom pain racing back and forth along the arm that was only half an arm. She cursed under her breath, biting her tongue to prevent the noise. She’d thought she was done with this – this aching pain. But it was always there, waiting for the reminder of her _loss._ These days, it seemed that any kind of loss would trigger her old pains, and she’d been feeling plenty of them since that monstrous, terrifying Grimm had stolen Oscar right out of her hands.

As the Manta banked to the right, swinging wide to float around to the other side of this enormous beast, Team RWBY convened at the mouth of the tunnel their leader was still guarding. They had dressed up for the occasion on Jaune’s urging. This was not a combat mission, for to incite conflict with the people on board this monster would be to invite death. Weiss had pulled her glowing white hair into a tight bun that she hid safely behind a black shawl, and her antiquity-inspired dress had been traded in for black body-suit, complete with crisscrossing veins of various Dust designed by Pietro to empower her Glyphs to better reduce the noise of activating _Myrtenaster_. Opposite her, Blake pressed herself tight against the wall, Faunus ears twitching in response to noises too distant for their own ears to pick up. Her white coat had been traded for a black one, the only change needed to accommodate their resident ninja. Ruby, too had dressed down, replacing her outfit with a bodysuit similar to Weiss’, albeit one with a cushioned shoulder-pad to reduce the recoil on _Crescent Rose_ , which had, itself, been outfitted with a top of the line suppressor. According to Pietro, even Blake would have a hard time picking up the noise of the rifle’s discharge with it equipped. As for Yang, not much had been changed. She had donned a darker palate for the night – less garish yellow and warm tan – and _Ember Celica_ had been temporarily painted black. But she was ill-suited to a covert operation, and a case had been made for her to accompany what remained of Team JNPR to assist them in their task. She had shot them down. Oscar deserved to have at least one of the people who had failed him present for his rescue.

Yang’s fist clenched again, and another lance of phantom pain raced up her arm to settle in the bottom of her heart. There, it ached.

Oscar was why they were here, about to sneak through the bowels of an impossibly large, impossible terrifying beast. It was a plan five days in the making; one of Jaune’s best plans, she had to say – albeit, also one of his most desperate. But none of them felt they had a choice anymore. Oscar had languished for weeks in Salem’s _care_ while the lot of them fought the good fight in Mantle. They’d rescued countless men, women and children from Grimm and Atlas alike, all while their friend suffered for their inaction. No more.

The plan was relatively simple and straightforward. Team RWBY was to sneak as quietly as possible through the whale in search of wherever Salem had decided to stash Oscar – Jaune’s best bet was, unfortunately, near wherever it was the woman laid her head. Thereafter, they were to abscond with him to the western docks as quickly as possible, prep the Manta for departure and be ready to run like hell when Team JNPR returned from their task. Team JNPR’s task being to cause as much noise as was humanly possible, attract every ounce of attention they could and give Team RWBY the window they needed to find and rescue Oscar. All of this, they determined, had to be done within an hour. After that, however much it pained them to consider, the risks simply became too great. Salem was more than capable of decimating the lot of them, even excusing the fact that they couldn’t kill her. And that was to say nothing of her myriad helpers.

Yang came to rest in a crouch beside her partner, eyes tracking warily down the tunnel as far they could. Given her _explosive_ personality, Yang was trailing the pack on this mission. Blake was to serve as their ears – her advanced hearing would allow them to move that much more efficiently through the whale, and it was possible she might even catch some whispered word of where exactly Oscar was being held. Weiss was their defense, primed and ready to incapacitate their enemies before any alarm could be raised, after which either she, Blake or Ruby would dispatch the enemy silently. Ruby herself was to be their eyes, making use of _Crescent Rose’s_ scope to scout ahead as far as possible.

Yang chanced another glance at her baby sister, the old familiar ache of worry flaring to life as she did. How dearly she wished that the two of them could be anywhere else but here. That they could be safe at home in Patch, listening to their father make silly jokes with sillier faces. That they could be lamenting exams at Beacon. Even that they could be just that little bit safer on the ground in Mantle. Yang would give anything if only she could spare her little sister more pain.

Another spasm wracked her arm, and Yang was flashing back, as she had so many, _many_ times in her life, to that fateful day in the woods. To the rain-slicked side of her wagon, to the creak of her wheel, to the tiny, huddled body of her shivering little sister, wrapped in a cloak big enough to be a blanket. She could still see the bending, bare limbs of the trees overhead, could still smell the rot of leaves fallen days ago.

The creeping, crusted hallways of this hellbeast shared no similarities with the woods she’d stumbled through all those years ago, but it was still the exact same situation. Oscar was here, lost in the dark woods, frightened and alone. But Qrow wasn’t coming to flash his scythe and save the day. It was _her_ turn to be the indomitable hero, rushing in to smite the monsters.

Had Qrow been as frightened then as she was today? Had his chest heaved with fearful breaths? Had he pictured her and Ruby’s broken bodies with the same crystal clarity that she now pictured Oscar’s? Yang didn’t know. She only knew that Oscar needed her, and that she would not – _could not_ – fail him.

Light, cool fingertips brushed softly against the naked skin of her arm, trailing lightly enough to attract her attention but not strongly enough to startle her. She looked up into Blake’s worried, amber eyes. “You okay?” she asked softly. Her voice was low and soft, impossible to comprehend at any distance greater than a few feet.

Yang swallowed thickly, releasing the haggard, uneven breath that those memories always filled her with. “Fine,” she answered shortly, setting her face into a determined mask. “Let’s go get our boy back.”

Blake’s eyes flitted across the contours of her face, narrowed _just so_ in that way they always were when she could tell that Yang was lying. Still, she gave a single nod and looked up to meet Ruby’s silver eyes, passing a silent message to her.

Ruby nodded in return, lowering _Crescent Rose_ to better see her upturned forearm. “Scrolls up,” she whispered across the divide, and the rest of them followed her order. Raising their own arms up to hover their fingers over their Scrolls, they waited, peering out of the corner of their eyes at their Faunus teammate. Blake’s own eyes were scrunched tight as she attempted to shut out all input save what her ears gave her. The pointed black triangles atop her head twitched this way and that way. The rest of Team RWBY waited with bated breath.

When the signal came, it wasn’t something they heard so much as felt, but they all felt it. The distant, faint rumble of an explosive detonating in close confines. Team JNPR had landed, and Nora had already set to work making as much noise as she could. By the time they’d registered the first blast, three more consecutive explosions followed it. Blake winced lightly, no doubt _hearing_ the explosions as well as feeling them. Their fingers descended upon their scrolls in perfect synchronization, and their hour began to count down.

Ruby pulled the bolt back on _Crescent Rose_ , rising into a standing crouch. With the perfect understanding of a Team that had worked together through crises big and small, Blake fell into step behind her, one hand raised to rest on the girl’s shoulder and one lowered, holding _Gambol Shroud_ at the ready. Weiss took up position behind them, _Myrtenaster_ poised to strike, and Yang fell into step behind her.

Grim faced and furious, Ruby led them into the belly of the beast.

  


* * *

  


Several feet ahead of the intersection of halls, Blake’s hand tightened almost imperceptibly around Ruby’s shoulder. Instantaneously, the girl came to an immediate and abrupt stop. Behind her, Weiss and Yang did likewise. They were used to the routine by now. Blake and Ruby traded a short glance before Blake moved ahead of her. With feline grace, she languidly walked into the center of the room, her feet making no noise as they fell on the irregular, veiny floor.

Blake stood resolute but lackadaisically. She was apathetically immovable, a brick wall that still held a lazy smirk upon its face. For several long moments, she stared down the hall to their left, amber eyes tracking invisible shapes in the shadows that the rest of them couldn’t see, aided by sounds the rest of them couldn’t hear. The low, hateful growl that echoed off the rounded walls of the hall a moment later met all their ears, however, and they all tensed at the sound of it. All except Blake, whose lazy smirk only grew as she leaned back on one foot, as if she were flirting with the beast.

The beast took the bait. Its low growl exploded into a cacophonous bark, and the impact of its feet against the floor shook the girls in their place as the Beowolf bounded forward out of the shadows. Baleful red eyes glared hatefully at the Faunus in the center of the room, completely unaware of the three other Huntresses waiting in the wings. With single minded focus, it leapt, claws extended to rip through Blake’s Aura, teeth bared to tear into her flesh. The Beowolf landed with a snarl, wide muscular arms wrapping around Blake’s body, only for the sound to turn into a choked, surprised whine as the Faunus vanished and its face connected roughly with the floor.

It had no time to recover from the surprise of its prey vanishing before its eyes. _Crescent Rose_ leapt back against Ruby’s padded shoulder, propelling the hollow point round directly into the Beowolf’s shocked eye. Its head exploded in a shower of black ichor and bone, and its body began to dissolve instantaneously. Pietro had not been overselling the suppressor’s capabilities – Blake’s ears had barely even twitched.

Ruby silently chambered another round, Blake silently replaced her hand on her leader’s shoulder, and Team RWBY silently continued to advance.

Such had been the course of events for the last twenty-seven minutes. The lot of them had skulked through the hallways at a maddeningly slow pace, led by Ruby who was guided by Blake’s more sensitive hearing. Occasionally, they would come across a distant straggler like their friend the Beowolf, but they were rare. They hadn’t even had the misfortune of stumbling upon a group of Grimm thus far, leaving Weiss with nothing to do but trudge silently after her leading teammates. In truth, they had largely been left alone – thanks in large part, they were sure, to Team JNPR’s efforts.

The overzealous cascade of explosions had receded only a few minutes after it had initially begun, and the inside of the whale had largely gone silent. The sounds of regular combat – blade or hammer to Grimm flesh – were unable to travel the great distances to their ears or feet. Even Blake could hear nothing of what their comrades were going through. Occasionally though, Nora would release another explosive, and they would all breathe another sigh of relief. Their friends were still fighting, and if they were still fighting, they were still alive.

The interior of the whale was a confusing labyrinth of twisting corridors and tight hallways. They seemed to intersect with each other in random and bizarre places, lacking anything that could be described as ‘organization’ or ‘structure’. It didn’t help that every hallway looked exactly the same – the same disgusting fleshy pink color, shot through with veins of red and purple that pulsed as if alive. It was disconcerting to think that they probably were.

Lacking any other ideas as to where Oscar might be held, they had followed Jaune’s intuition and done their best to follow the twisting pathways towards the head of the enormous monster. It had been slow going and frustrating, and they were constantly plagued by the worry that they had been turned around by the tunnels. With no direction save the slowly raising slope of the floor beneath them to tell them they were climbing, they continued to advance through the enormous Grimm.

Ruby sighed shakily, lowering _Crescent Rose_ and turning worried eyes onto Blake behind her. “Anything?”

Blake’s hand tightened reflexively on Ruby’s shoulder as her face twisted into a frustrated grimace. Led by her connection to Ruby, she’d had her eyes closed for the duration of the infiltration, the better to perceive oncoming enemies or – hopefully – listen for any sign of Oscar. At this point, the failures to find their friend were beginning to pile onto her psyche.

“No,” she sighed defeatedly. Pointing vaguely towards her right, she said, “There’s a collection of Grimm – two or three – down that path. They’re slow. Not moving towards anything. But that’s all I’ve got.”

Yang followed the path of her hand, shaking her head at the information before she’d even fully looked down the tunnel. “That path slopes down.”

Ruby’s hands clenched around _Crescent Rose_. When she spoke, her voice was strained, as if she were only barely restraining herself. “Are we _sure_ we even need to be going up?”

“No,” Weiss said in that comfortingly dismissive voice that only she could pull off and that only Ruby would be calmed by. “But it makes sense. If I were the Queen of Grimm, I’d want to feel above everyone else too.”

“You sure that’s not just Weiss speaking?” Yang joked as a matter of reflex, their banter too ingrained into the psyche of their Team to avoid. But there was no humor in her voice, no smile on her face, and none of them laughed.

Ruby checked her Scroll. Twenty-six minutes left. She hoisted Crescent Rose. “Let’s go. We’re running out of time.”

She set off. Or she tried to. Blake’s hand had tightened around her shoulder like an iron clamp, holding the smaller girl in place with little to no exertion on her part. Ruby grunted against her as she was pulled back flush against Blake’s body. “Blake!” she hissed, annoyed.

“I hear,” Blake whispered shudderingly, face scrunched up in concentration again as both ears twitched towards the right tunnel, “something. I’ve never- _what is that!?”_

“Blake?” Ruby repeated, her voice concerned.

Blake opened her eyes, and the fear within them was enough to send a chill down Ruby’s spine. “There’s something–” she said jerkily, turning her head down the same – suddenly ominous – passageway she’d pointed out earlier. “There’s something down that way.”

Ruby’s eyes flitted back and forth between the tunnel and her teammate, apprehension clear on her face. “What?” she asked breathlessly, her voice seized by the same fear that now compelled Blake.

Blake could only shake her head, as if she were trying to shake away the thought of whatever it was she had heard. “I don’t know. A Grimm, I think. But not like any Grimm I’ve ever heard before. It sounds… _wrong_.”

All four members of Team RWBY traded heavy looks. They had never heard Blake like this, so seized with fear. Of course, she’d been scared before – they could still remember the terror in her eyes when she’d accidentally revealed her Faunus heritage – but never of Grimm. In that, Blake perhaps held the monopoly on bravery. She’d been through far too much to ever fear something as banal as a _Grimm_. That she even now was eyeing the passageway warily was exceptionally telling.

“Well, that sounds exactly like something I don’t ever want to meet,” Yang said glibly, but her voice was still only just above a whisper.

Blake didn’t voice a disagreement, but Weiss and Ruby’s wary looks only grew. Their hands clenched tighter around their weapons as they eyed each other. “We don’t have any other leads,” Weiss said slowly.

“You’re not serious,” Blake groaned, cutting her eyes at her. Weiss shrugged apologetically.

“She’s right,” Ruby said, and her voice was firm despite the fear in her eyes. She licked her lips. “We’re running out of time. We have to do something _now_ or we aren’t going to find Oscar.”

“And what makes you think chasing after the mystery Grimm is going to lead us to him?” Yang demanded.

Ruby grimaced at her sister before cutting her eyes to Weiss. “If you were Salem…”

Weiss nodded. “I’d put my prisoner behind something no one would expect.”

“That–” Yang cut herself off furiously, her snappish tone having risen above the levels of the conversation. Clenching her fists, she reigned in her temper, but her face was still twisted into a grimace as she said, “Fine. Let’s go pull the tiger’s tail.”

The passageway wound more than the others did, taking sharp turns at random intervals for seemingly no reason. It was difficult to remember that the thing they were walking through had been _grown_ , not built, and it did not follow the typical conventions. This was evidenced as well by the sharply sloping sections of the passage, something they had not yet seen on their trek. One moment they were nearly stumbling down a slope that was altogether too sharp to be practical, and the next they were practically hiking up an even sharper incline. At the back of the pack, Yang grimaced as Weiss tripped backwards into her again, gritting her teeth and squaring her feet to prevent the both of them tumbling back to the bottom of the hall. Weiss spared her a thankful look, but Yang had stopped acknowledging them after the third such time she’d stumbled.

All at once, the slope ended, leveling out into a plateau that fed directly into another rounded room. It looked like the intersection of six or more hallways; a hub area of some sort. That wasn’t what attracted their attention. At the front of the pack, Ruby saw it first, and she reacted with the instincts of a trained Huntress. Jerking back into the shadows of the hall as quickly as she could, she pressed herself flat against the wall, and Team RWBY did likewise, trusting her judgement. Ruby held a single finger to her lips, indicating complete silence, but it was the pure terror on her face that truly compelled them.

One by one, they leaned slowly out to peer around the corner at the beast that had so startled their leader, that had so terrified their unshakable teammate. It was exactly as Yang remembered it, albeit without the veiny, viscous wings protruding from its back. Removed from the fervor of battle, Yang could take in the truth of exactly how large it was. On all fours, it rose almost to the peak of Yang’s head, and she was certain that it would dwarf Ruby or Weiss if the latter wasn’t wearing heels. Stood up on its hind legs – as she was all too aware that it could – it would be as a giant to any of them. The Hound was snuffling along the ground, wide nostrils flaring as it sniffed its way around the room seemingly without purpose. If one removed the outcroppings of jagged bone and the pulsating rivulets of rotten flesh that swam around its muscles, it could almost be mistaken for a regular dog.

Almost.

“That’s the Grimm that took Oscar.” Yang grit her teeth, her voice a fixture of fear and fury.

“It’s not a Grimm,” Blake whispered, her own voice dominated entirely by fear. She shook herself. “Er-it’s not a normal Grimm. There’s something... _else_. Something beneath it. I can hear...I don’t know what I hear.”

The Hound twisted suddenly, a full rotation of its torso that was accompanied by the sickening sound of splintering bone and squelching flesh. Its eyeless face stared balefully at them, and the low growl at the back of its throat built into a thunderous roar that tore at their ears. Its warning conveyed, the beast lowered itself onto all fours and sprinted off down the hall.

“I think I know what it hears,” Weiss cursed dryly.

“Follow it,” Yang ordered.

 _“What!?”_ three voices responded to her in an instant.

Yang rounded on them, eyes red. “Either it’s going to tell Salem we’re here and we need to kill it, or it’s going to defend Oscar and can lead us to him! _Follow it!”_

They gave chase, sprinting down the winding tunnel with caution thrown to the wind. Thoughts of stealth and infiltration had been left behind. The creature before them could spell their salvation or their doom, and one way or another they couldn’t afford to be subtle about dealing with it. Unfortunately, the Hound was fast. Very fast. The wide, loping bounds of its long legs would have outdistanced them in an instant had it been a straightaway run, and it was only the winding turns of the tunnels that gave them half a chance at keeping up. Even so, they’d lost sight of it multiple times, once more falling back on Blake’s hearing to direct them.

“I’m losing it!” Blake cried, sprinting along beside Ruby. She couldn’t afford to close out her other senses just now, but still her face was tight with the strain of trying to focus just on her ears. “It’s getting away!”

“Which way is it!?” Ruby demanded.

“Forward and to the right,” Blake responded, her face pinched.

“Sorry, Blake,” Ruby said.

Blake turned her attention to her leader. “For what?” The words hadn’t even left her mouth before her amber eyes widened as Ruby began to vibrate, rose petals cascading off her skin. “Oh no.”

Ruby blurred into a fast moving mass of barely held together petals that enveloped the lot of them in the time it took for Blake to curse. Then she was moving, flying down the length of the hallway faster than any human could ever move. She followed Blake’s directions, largely blind to any of her other senses in this form and within moments, she had caught up to the fast fleeing Grimm.

It turned on her, yowling furiously and swiped a claw through the mass of petals. But this was not Harriet, and the Hound could not move fast enough to connect. Its claws swiped fruitlessly, doing little more than scattering rose petals along the length of the hall. Ruby came to a rest behind the beast, coalescing into a solid form, her weapon already raised to fire even as the rest of her team stumbled against the rapid change of pace.

 _Crescent Rose_ barked three times in the time it took for the others to stand, and Ruby did not stop advancing the entire time. On the final step she shifted _Crescent Rose_ into her scythe form with a furious yell and flew into strike after strike against the beast’s rotten skin. Weiss was fast behind her, followed soon after by Blake, but Yang did not get the chance to join the fray.

“Yang, go!” Ruby ordered, her high voice somehow carrying over the sound of weapon fire, Dust explosions and furious growls. “Get Oscar!”

Yang paused, confused. Oscar? Where was–? She turned on the spot to stare at the hallway behind her, only to see that it was not a hallway but a door – the first they’d seen since arriving. Ruby, far more used to perceiving things at her Semblance speed than the rest of them, must have noticed what they all had missed. The Hound had led them somewhere, intentionally or not, and Ruby was banking on the fact that it was where Oscar was being held.

Of course, it also could have been Salem’s bedroom, in which case she would shortly die a quick, painful death, but Yang tried not to think on that.

“Yang, _go!”_ Ruby desperately screamed again over the din of battle.

Yang wasted no more time – too aware of their fast running clock. She ducked quickly down the hall, eyes alert for any type of handle or control panel that would open the door, only to have it slide down into the floor as an automatic response to her presence. That was handy. It would have taken too much time to break it down.

The room – the first proper room they’d been in since entering this hellbeast was small, barely bigger than her bedroom back in Patch and perfectly round. Equidistant, flesh colored support pillars rose up from the floor to the ceiling around the entirety of the room, and the ceiling was a poisonous purple color, backlit by some light that cast a hazy glow over the room. Yang noticed this as a reflex of instinct, long ingrained training telling her to catalogue the details of the room for use in combat or, more likely, escape. Instead, her conscious mind was focused entirely on the tiny, slumped body near the back of the room.

Oscar looked horrible, and Yang could only just now see half of his body. The right side of his face was purple, entirely bruised from chin to temple, and his hair had been flattened into matted clumps that were made up of more blood than hair. His uniform – the uniform he’d been so proud to call his own, that marked him first and foremost as one of them and not one of Ozpin’s puppets – was torn, bloodied and ripped apart in places, the rips jagged and uneven as if they had been ripped by hands. He looked as if he had attempted to prop himself up against one of the pillars, but had given up or been unable to, slumped to the floor as he was. Judging by the uneven trail of blood leading to his current position from halfway across the room, it looked as if he had crawled his way there.

For a long moment, Yang couldn’t breathe. The image in front of her was blurring – one moment this frail, innocent little boy she’d failed to protect, alone in the belly of a monster, the next her shattered baby sister in sinister, shadowed woods. Yang’s eyes ran back and forth across his body, and a sob escaped her throat. He wasn’t moving. She couldn’t see him breath.

Seized by this frantic, panicked thought, Yang rushed forward, desperate to put her hands on him. To feel for the warmth of life, the pulse of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest. She fell to her knees beside him, hands running up the length of his chest to rest at his neck, fingers reaching for evidence of a pulse.

It was a mistake.

Oscar came to life screaming, the very sound hoarse and choked, as if even this – the expression of his horror – brought him pain. He scrunched his eyes tight and flailed his fists uselessly, the blows weak and frail, lacking any of his usual strength and vigor. Yang avoided the blows with ease, barely having to twitch her head to dodge his slow fists. He hadn’t stopped screaming.

“Oscar!” she attempted to scream over his fit. She still had her hands on his chest, unwilling to remove them, unwilling to release the only link to his life that she had. “Oscar, it’s me! It’s Yang! You’re alright! Oscar, stop, it’s me!”

The words didn’t reach him – _couldn’t_ reach him. He continued to scream, to flail, to sob. It was clear that even the motions of this, his paltry attempt at resistance, were causing him pain, pulling at wounds internal and external. Still he fought on, unwilling to give in. It would be inspiring if it weren’t so fucking heartbreaking.

“Oscar, it’s me!” Yang screamed again, tears filling her eyes but still he didn’t hear her. Lost for what to do, Yang did the only thing she could think of – the very same thing she always did when her family was hurting.

She acted like a big sister.

Tightening her fists around the fabric of his uniform, she pulled him into a tight embrace.

Using her superior strength, she gave him no choice in the matter, and judging by his renewed reactions, such a thing rarely spelled comfort for the boy. She crushed her arms around his back, one hand rising to hold his head in the crook of her shoulder. His fists had found purchase now, able to find their targets with as close as they were. He beat them into her back, as impactful as falling rain.

“It’s me, Oscar,” she whispered directly into his ear, voice choked by emotion. “It’s Yang. It’s Yang. It’s Yang.”

She repeated the mantra over and over, her voice soft and tear filled. “It’s Yang,” she said again, pressing her lips into the side of his head. Wrapped up in her arms, he began to still, his screams tapering off into incoherent sobs. He had stopped attempted to assault her back, his arms instead falling limply onto the floor beside her hips. “It’s Yang.”

“Y-Yang?” Oscar croaked, and the sound broke her heart. Never mind that it cracked with pain, his throat long since rent by his screams. It was just so broken. So lost. So hopeless. He probably thought he was dreaming.

“It’s me,” she whispered into his ear again. “It’s me. I’m here. We’re all here. We’re all here for you. You’re safe, Oscar. It’s me.”

She could feel the tremble of his jaw against her shoulder. “Yang!” he cried again, and then truly began to cry. Hot tears ran down her shoulder as his arms rocketed up to wrap as tightly as he could around her back.

She continued to hold him, rocking him lightly in her arms as he sobbed. “It’s me,” she reassured him again. Her hand rose up to run through his matted hair. “I’m so sorry, Oscar. I’ll never let anything happen to you again. I promise. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She held him like that for a precious few more minutes, painfully aware of the ticking clock they were at the mercy of, terrifyingly conscious of the furious fight that was no doubt still happening just outside the door. Neither of them had much longer to waste here on the floor of Oscar’s prison cell. However much she was sure that Oscar did not currently want to move – for to move would be pain, suffering and torment – she was equally if not more aware that what he wanted more than anything was to leave this place and never see it again. Oh so very lightly, she pulled him away from her embrace, holding back tears at the way she had to support his head to prevent it from lolling to one side.

His eyes were open, and they sought hers. But they were fogged, distant and unseeing. The tangled mess of limbs and sobs in her arms was only barely Oscar just now. “Can you walk?” she asked softly, already knowing the answer. Still, she had to ask. It would have been much simpler if he could move under his own power.

Still, it was a testament to exactly how bad he was that the headstrong boy did not even attempt a try. He only shook his head, his motor control so lacking that it looked more as if he had thrown his head from one side to the next with no care at all. She tightened her grip on him to stop him hurting himself and nodded, more to herself than anything else. As carefully as she could, Yang maneuvered him, cradling his shoulders and head in the crook of her left arm even as her robotic one snaked underneath his legs. She stood in a single easy motion, hardly straining against his weight. Oscar was a small fry on the best of days, and these days were very far from that.

Carrying her small, frail little brother in her arms like a blushing bride, Yang strode purposefully out of the room. She was already shouting the moment the door receded to reveal the furious battle going on between her teammates and the Hound. _“We have to go!”_

The three of them spared the split second it took to confirm that the bundle in her arms was Oscar before the lot of them disengaged as one, putting as much distance between themselves and their enemy as they could even as their parting blows served to give Yang the window she needed to break for the cover of her teammates. Team RWBY wasted no time. They spared the Hound no more blows as they turned to sprint back down the hallway they’d come from. Weiss slowed long enough to _swish_ a thick, frozen wall of ice into place that obscured the entirety of the hall before she too broke into a complete sprint.

“How long do we have!?” Blake panted.

“Four minutes!” Weiss cursed in reply.

Four minutes. It was better than nothing. Technically, Team JNPR wouldn’t even expect them to begin heading back towards the docks until the timer had completely elapsed, but that did not make the wide, confusing space between them and their exit any less daunting. By now, Team JNPR would have already begun their retreat back to the docks, no doubt carrying any number of their enemies on their heels. However much it wearied them to think it, the fight would not be over when they regrouped with their friends.

Not that Team RWBY was doing much better on that front, considering the vicious, mutated Grimm Hound that had just leapt explosively through Weiss’ wall of ice, howling and growling in pursuit. The ice had bought them, perhaps, fifteen seconds, but every single second counted as they made their way as quickly as possible towards the exit. In this instance, the winding halls worked in their favor as the beast, overexcited and furious at the chance to kill them, was overextending itself. At full tilt, it could catch them easily, provided it didn’t forget to slow down for the sharp turns. Thankfully, it was repeatedly forgetting to do just that and every loud, muted crash of heavy muscle against the walls behind them told them that they still had that little bit more time.

Time that Ruby seemed intent on capitalizing on as she once again began to rapidly vibrate to Blake’s dismay.

“No!” Yang cut her off furiously before she could whisk the lot of them away. “Oscar’s too hurt, and we don’t know what that will do to him!”

“It’ll catch us!” Ruby screamed fearfully, gesturing uselessly at the monstrous Grimm behind them as if she could have been talking about anything else.

“We came here to rescue Oscar!” Yang snapped at her. “Kind of a waste of effort if we kill him on the way back out!”

“Yang!” Weiss growled furiously, eyes cutting back and forth between the two sisters.

Yang bit back a retort at the same time that Ruby bit back the hurt on her face as they continued to sprint down the hall. Now was not the time or place to hash out sisterly vendettas. Not when some unknown mutated freak was trying its hardest to kill them. Not when their friend, their surrogate brother was half dead in their arms. Not when–

**_“Ruby Rose.”_ **

The thunderous stomping of their feet ceased immediately as the four of them came to an abrupt, jarring halt, unable to help the reaction. A long, frigid chill ran up their spines, icy veins curling out and around their backs to grip at their hearts and pump them full of fear. The deep, growling voice of the monster behind them did not speak again, but then, it didn’t really need to.

Against their will, they turned fearful eyes onto the beast. It slavered at the edge of the hall, upright and panting as it seemed to brace itself with one disgusting arm. Its eyeless visage seemed no less intimidating as it glared deeply at them. A low growl was building in the Hound’s throat, a herald of an attack that, for the life of them, they could not muster the energy to counter.

In Yang’s arms, Oscar shifted, wincing and gasping in pain even as he continued to force his body into a position to see the monstrous Hound. “Oz...pin,” he croaked. And for all the shocks of this night, Yang’s brain short circuited again to hear what the boy was saying. _“Help me.”_

The Hound charged, moving impossible fast for its size, jaws unhinged to snap at their heads as it _leapt_ through the air, intent to kill. At the same time, Oscar’s eyes flared, glowing brightly in the dark, and, in Yang’s arms, the boy exploded. A dome of cracking, unstable green energy leapt from his body, encasing the entirety of Team RWBY at the exact moment the Hound would have connected with Ruby’s frail frame.

The Hound was thrown violently backwards, colliding with the wall hard enough to crack it. This, the strange, magical energy Oscar has produced, effected the beast far more than any of the bullets or blades Team RWBY had brought to bear against it. It howled in agony, tearing at its face and body as if burning as it writhed in pain upon the floor.

“We have to go,” Oscar whispered, his voice still weak. “Salem will have felt that.”

It was Oscar’s voice, but they weren’t his words. She was sure of it. Yang held the boy closer to her chest, her arms tightening almost painfully around his small frame. Then they were off, sprinting down the hallway towards the western docks.

  


* * *

  


By happenstance, Team RWBY emerged from the dark hallway and into the open dock of the whale at the exact same time that Team JNPR thundered into the room as well. There was no time for smiles or hope or happiness, however. Not fifteen feet behind Team JNPR, the immense, muscular form of Hazel Rainart followed, an inarticulate scream of rage slipping from his mouth. A few scant moments later, the tunnel Team RWBY had appeared from disgorged another enemy, the slavering Hound intent on their destruction.

Compared to Team JNPR, the entirety of Team RWBY actually looked to have done alright. Their three companions were battered and bruised, their uniforms torn in some places and blood spattered in others. The only bright side to the brief overview of their friends was that most of the blood didn’t seem to be theirs – evidence by the myriad of cuts large and small that had been slashed into Hazel’s pain-immune body.

Any more review than that was cut short as the Hound bared down on them. Ruby, Blake and Weiss closed ranks, cutting off the beast’s advance to give Yang the time to leap into the waiting Manta. As gently as she could, she laid Oscar’s limp body down in the back seat, allowing her hand to linger carefully on his cheek for a moment longer than was strictly necessary before she turned to leap back into the fray.

The battle divided itself fairly evenly. The four members of Team RWBY waged war against the impossibly strong Hound, the bite of bladed weapons bleeding black ichor with every strike. Meanwhile, Jaune, Ren and Nora halted their retreat to meet Hazel’s advance, catching thunderous blows on the bladed edges of their weapons with gritted teeth and grimacing faces. Some semblance of conversation must have passed between the three of them, for Nora broke ranks quite randomly, turning to dash across the divide and lend her aid to Team RWBY. Perhaps Jaune had ordered it, too aware of exactly how dangerous and unpredictable the Hound was. Perhaps Nora had decided on her own that her boys were more than capable of withstanding Hazel’s fury. No one knew. No one ever would.

Nora never made it to Team RWBY’s side.

To think that things could get worse would have been impossible for any of the seven Huntsmen and Huntresses currently fighting for their life. But so it was that fate proved them wrong as the imposing, shadowed figure of the Grimm Queen strode languidly out of the only other entrance to the docks directly in front of where Nora now stood. There was a smile on Salem’s face, soft and serene. It grew into a twisted smirk as her furious red eyes locked onto Nora’s lone form.

Long, white fingers rose to caress the air, plucking at the empty space like the strings of an instrument. But instead of music, she conjured magic, priming an assault that would most certainly kill whatever it was it touched.

“Jaune!”

Nora’s cry caught his attention immediately, and well-trained instincts allowed him to take in the situation in the time it took to turn his head. Fighting against the strain of Hazel’s immense strength, Jaune withdrew a Dust Pod, primed it and threw it across the divide. It activated, a pulsating blue shield of Hard-Light Dust leaping to life, only to shatter beneath the onslaught of Salem’s magic an instant later.

The Grimm Queen grimaced against the interruption, but continued to advance, hands rising to once more summon another torrent of magic.

 _“Jaune!”_ Nora cried again.

 _“Argghhh, Ren!”_ Jaune screamed furiously. He shifted his grip on _Crocea Mors_ , and the blade’s razor edge slid through the flesh of Hazel’s arms like butter, the momentum of the man’s strength propelling Jaune into a sprint that carried him towards Nora. Hazel roared furiously, but Ren had already leapt into his way, taking his attention with several lightning fast swipes of _StormFlower._

Jaune slid to a stop in front of Nora, his shield raised just in time to catch the secondary onslaught of Salem’s magic. He gasped against the strain as it lashed against his shield like the furious waves of a stormy ocean, vibrating the metal furiously even as it simultaneously froze and superheated the metal in various places. Jaune grit his teeth, a furious scream of defiance renting his throat as the strength of Salem’s magic began to slide his feet back along the floor. He felt Nora’s back against his own, bracing him against the assault, and he could feel the recoil of _Magnhild’s_ grenade launcher beating into his back as she fired grenades, alternating targets between the Hound and Hazel.

Slowly but surely, the two Teams were pushed back, closer and closer to the edge, figurative and literal. On one side, the Hound fought furiously against the combined efforts of Team RWBY, growling and howling against their blows. On the other, Ren lost ground by the moment to Hazel’s furious fists. And in between them, Salem’s almighty power continued to thunder against Jaune’s rapidly weakening defense.

All at once it seemed to cease as all three of their opponents took a simultaneous breath. Team RWBY watched the Hound warily, hovering defensively in front of the Manta, protecting Oscar’s prone form. Ren held his side, gasping against a deep, internal pain, eyes warily awaiting Hazel’s next blow. And Jaune’s arms sagged as Salem released her power. For two whole seconds, silence reigned amongst these fated enemies.

Then the battle returned to life in an explosion of furious yells, howls and screams of rage. At the front of the pack, Jaune was pushed halfway up Nora’s back by Salem’s power as she continued to slowly advanced, hands outstretched to cradle the ball of magic within her hands. Jaune screamed against the pain in his arms, and Nora screamed against the strain of keeping him in place. Something was going to give, and it needed to be their enemy.

 _“Ruby! Yang!”_ Jaune shouted over the cacophony of battle. Hard earned experience tuned the girls’ ears to his voice even as they continued to fight for their life against the Hound’s savagery. _“Nuclear option!!”_

The sisters traded a heavy look, an entire conversation held between them in the breadth of a single second using naught but their eyes to speak. When they had finished, Yang set her mouth into a firm line and nodded at her little sister, and Ruby, clearly reluctant, nodded back.

“How long!?” Ruby demanded, cutting her eyes at Weiss and Blake.

The two other members of Team RWBY held a similarly telepathic conversation in an even shorter span of time. Blake twisted, kicking her heel into the side of the Hound’s snarling face. “20 seconds,” she panted in reply. “Tops.”

The sisters nodded. It would have to do. Quick as a flash they disengaged, pulling back to rest near the Manta. Weiss and Blake closed ranks immediately, preventing the Hound’s single-minded pursuit of their silver eyed leader, but the strain on their faces spoke volumes as to how long they’d be able to keep such an effort up. Yang and Ruby wasted no time.

“You’re sure about this?” Ruby whispered breathlessly as she loaded a full magazine into _Crescent Rose._

Yang shook her head. “No,” she replied, just as winded. The word was definitive and absolute, but her eyes traced the lines of Oscar’s slumped form. “But we’re doing it anyway.”

They had discovered the ‘Nuclear Option’ in the final months of their days at Beacon when Team RWBY and Team JNPR had been sparring routinely in preparation for the Vytyl Festival. It had been an accident caused by Yang overstepping and crossing into Ruby’s sights. Jaune had actually been the one to coin the term, something Ruby considered to be his right considering he was the one that first faced the consequences of it.

Ruby slid the bolt back on _Crescent Rose._ “Ready?”

Yang clashed her fists together. “Ready.”

Fifteen seconds had passed since Weiss and Blake had promised them their window. Ruby steadied her breath, raised her rifle and fired a point blank shot directly into her sister’s stomach.

Yang folded like a lawn chair, gritting her teeth to muffle the scream of bruising pain that radiated out from her stomach. _Crescent Rose_ barked five more times, each shot connecting immediately with Yang’s unarmored body. One more hit her stomach again, another her shoulder, two her leg and the last her breast. When Ruby lowered her rifle, she was breathing heavily, and tears had stained her cheeks. She was nothing compared to Yang, however, who stood rigidly in the same position her body had been forced to occupy by the force of the last bullet’s impact. Her eyes were clenched tightly shut, her mouth a firm line as she clenched her teeth against the pain.

It was a testament to the shock and awe of this tactic that every one of their enemies paused to witness the insane stunt. They narrowed their eyes or cocked their heads, curiosity alight in their eyes. Eyes that widened in surprise and apprehension when Yang exploded.

 _“ARGGGHHHH!”_ she screamed her rage to the heavens, opening blood red eyes to glare balefully at her enemies as her blonde hair exploding into a blazing inferno that cascaded out in waves of heat and flame and energy. The Hound retreated from the blaze, a hand raised to shield its face from the heat and even Hazel’s Semblance did not allow him to ignore the effects of Yang’s Semblance forced to its extreme.

Only Salem remained unaffected by the heat and flames, instead staring curiously at the girl who had turned into a walking explosion. It was a mistake that Jaune and Nora capitalized on, switching places with each other in the same instant that Yang rocketed to her left faster than the eye could see. Nora leapt off of Jaune’s shield like a springboard, and her hammer connected with Salem’s unprotected stomach the exact moment that Yang’s fist connected with Hazel’s unprotected face.

Both of their imposing enemies folded beneath the onslaught of the girls’ sheer strength, propelled backwards and through the wall in Salem’s case. Black ichor spilled from the Grimm Queen’s wounds and, immortal or not, she wouldn’t be getting up for a minute. As for Hazel, the force of Yang’s fist had no doubt rattled his brain, but it was the unimpeded contact with the floor that almost certainly caused him some kind of internal injury. Still immune to the pain such a blow would cause, the mountain of a man attempted to rise, a slurred yell already escaping his lips as he tried to summon the rage that would allow him to force through this ordeal. It was not to be. His body may have been immune to the pain, but it was not immune to the effects, and the large man was unable to find his balance as he teetered unevenly on his feet.

Leaving the all but unconscious man to Ren, Yang pivoted on her heel and once more rocketed across the room to deliver her unrelenting fury to another opponent – this one an altogether more personal one. Even the monstrous Hound paused before her fury. But the single, wary step it took back was not enough to prevent the arrival of Yang’s shotgun assisted fist. The force of the blow shattered one of the Hound’s bony faceplates with an audible _crunch_ , and the beast yelped loudly as the bone fragments were forced into the skin by the force of the blow. It too fell backwards, propelled into the wall by Yang’s fist.

It had all taken less than ten seconds – ten seconds the rest of them had not been idle. Ren finished Hazel off with a swift roundhouse kick to the temple that proved to be too much for the man’s frazzled body. He dropped like a rock, colliding roughly with the floor. Ruby had never returned to the battle, choosing instead to slide herself into the Manta’s driver seat and prep the engine. As Yang retreated from the whining, whimpering form of the Hound in the corner, the rest of them converged on the now floating vehicle that promised their salvation.

Salem had not yet even begun to try and claw her way out of the hole she’d been shoved into. Her wounds were still attempting to heal, her bones still trying to rearrange. It would be nearly two whole minutes before she could call herself whole again – the longest she had ever had to heal in quite some time. By the time the Grimm Queen had risen back to her full height, Teams RWBY and JNPR were already long gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Tumblr for writing snippets, updates and complaints
> 
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/godofgrapes


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